78 JUSTIN MORGAN 



terday and hearing at the stage-house that we had some- 

 thing of a horse in these parts staid over to-day to 

 satisfy their curiosity." 



"We'll satisfy it !'' laughed Evans, confidently. 



Three strange horses stood hitched near by, and Evans 

 went to take a look at them, as if casually. The Mor- 

 gan followed, as a faithful dog might, extending his 

 nostrils as he caught sight of a cloak thrown over one 

 of the saddles. He caught the scent and blew his breath 

 on it in a disgusted way. He had recognized the odor 

 of the Coxcomb, Master Knickerbocker ! 



Nye had also followed Evans. 



"Vd just like to show these New York dandies the 

 sort of horses we can raise in Vermont," he said, ap- 

 parently oblivious of the fact that the best and first part 

 of True's raising had been done in Massachusetts. "Even 

 if we can't afford to use all that ody cologne, and wear 

 frills on our shirt fronts. They say these two horses 

 were bred on the Winooski at the Ethan Allen farm, but 

 this one" — he indicated the horses as he spoke — "is from 

 down New York way." 



Evans walked around and looked at them critically. 



''Good horses, all of them," he remarked, with appre- 

 ciation, "and fresh." 



"Rested all night at the Inn," Nye corroberated, re- 

 sentfully. 



The Morgan was working himself up over the scent 

 of the cloak — any test for him against the horse on whose 

 saddle it lay was as good as won already. He had an 

 intuition that Mistress Lloyd would like him to defeat 

 the Coxcomb, whose horse was a fretful, vicious animal 

 — handsome enough, it was true, and with many races 

 to his credit — but he was too full of conceit and self- 

 confidence to please Morgan. 



The Ethan Allen horses were quieter and gave the 



